


Not-Boyfriend

by catastrophicsetback



Category: Glee
Genre: Drinking, Drug Use, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:19:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catastrophicsetback/pseuds/catastrophicsetback
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Blaine and Sam cuddle in their underwear is kind of a trainwreck, but it works out in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not-Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with the mindset that they're in their freshman year of college, but it's open to interpretation.

So, this is kind of new. 

Sam’s been Blaine’s not-boyfriend for almost a month now, which isn’t really that long, and they’re still taking things slow while they figure shit out. Like, really slow. Sam still has no idea if this thing he has for Blaine is a guy thing or just a Blaine thing, and it’s really kind of confusing when he thinks about it so he doesn’t think about it a whole lot.

And then there’s the fact that they’ve never really put a title on what they are, either. Sam calls Blaine his boyfriend in his head and around his family, because it’s nice, and he knows it’s what he wants, but they went from being just friends to friends with feelings and kisses on the side pretty much overnight, without having any kind of conversation about it, and they’ve both been avoiding  _the talk_  ever since.

Sam’s not too sure why Blaine’s been avoiding it, but he figures it has something to do with the fact that Sam still tentatively identifies as a straight dude, and he doesn’t really plan on changing that until he’s certain about who he is.

The status talk isn’t the only thing they’ve been avoiding either, since they haven’t really gone past making out, and a little grinding that one time at one of Puck’s parties when they were both too trashed to care. It’s obvious, at least to Sam, that they both really want to go further, but they haven’t even allowed themselves to look, let alone touch.

Sam figures it’s because of the sexuality thing again.

So, yeah, this is kind of new.

It’s new because he’s currently shirtless on Blaine’s bed, a little tipsy, a little high — on weed and on life and on Blaine — and he’s really fucking tired, and he’s never been shirtless on Blaine’s bed before. He’s stayed over plenty in the past month, and even before that, but he’s always kept his clothes on, sometimes because he was too drunk to get anything off and other times to make sure Blaine didn’t get uncomfortable.

But apparently he loses all his inhibitions when he’s intoxicated (but still sober enough to function), and he pulls his shirt off before he can think twice about it, reaching for the button of his pants as soon as his shirt hits the floor.

Blaine blushes instantly when he realises that Sam’s stripping, standing at the edge of the bed and staring at him with wide eyes, and he’s a little more drunk than Sam is, and probably just as high, but apparently he’s still somewhat cautious when he’s inebriated. 

“Um,” is all he says, and Sam ignores him, because he really just wants to get into bed and sleep in comfort, and he doesn’t need his not-boyfriend freaking out on him while he’s drunk.

He pushes his jeans down his legs, and it takes him a minute to realise why they’re not coming off his feet too, so he takes his shoes off and kicks his pants down the rest of the way, until they’re on the floor with the rest of his clothes and he’s wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a pair of socks.

When he lays down, Blaine’s still just standing at the end of the bed, and Sam lets out a sigh as he gets himself comfortable and gestures lazily for Blaine to join him.

“B, come on,” he murmurs, his words slurring slightly, and okay, maybe he’s a little more drunk than he thought. “Get into bed.”

Blaine hesitates, but then he climbs onto the mattress and settles down beside Sam, still dressed in his party clothes. Sam scoffs.

“You can’t be comfortable like that, dude.” When Blaine makes a dismissive noise in the back of his throat, he decides to press it further, tugging at the sleeve of Blaine’s cardigan. “Come on, dumbass, get comfy.”

Blaine stares at Sam for a long moment before sitting up and slowly taking his clothes off, and it kinda looks like his hands are shaking a little, but Sam blames it on the alcohol.

Blaine settles back down beside Sam once his clothes are gone, and Sam turns on his side, taking a moment to let his eyes run over Blaine’s body. When he looks back up and meets Blaine’s gaze, they’re both blushing, and they laugh awkwardly as they look away.

“Would it be weird if I, like, held you or something?” Sam asks. That’s another thing they’ve never done — fallen asleep in each other’s arms — but he figures it can’t hurt to ask.

Blaine looks surprised, the blush on his cheeks getting more prominent, and he gives a small shake of his head as clears his throat, shuffling a little closer. “It wouldn’t be weird,” he promises.

That’s all Sam needs to hear before he pulls Blaine into his arms, tucking his head under his chin and holding him close. Almost as an afterthought, he pulls the covers up around them, cocooning them inside the warmth with a happy sigh.

It takes him a moment to realise that Blaine’s body is actually pressed up against his, skin-on-skin all over. The realisation makes his heart skip a beat, and he’s pretty sure his mind stopped functioning for a few seconds, although he’d deny it if anyone asked.

“This is kind of awkward,” Blaine murmurs drunkenly after a long silence, letting out a laugh as he rubs his face against Sam’s shoulder and brushes his cold toes against Sam’s ankle, and Sam’s heart is torn between swelling from the contact and sinking from Blaine’s words.

“Do you not- do you want to, to … not do this?” he asks quietly, stumbling over his words as he glances down, and Blaine immediately shakes his head, pressing closer and hugging tighter.

“It’s just new,” Blaine says, and Sam nods in agreement, smiling in relief because he’s pretty sure he never wants to let Blaine go.

“It is.”

They fall into silence again and Sam lets his mind wander, hazy thoughts of his sexuality and their relationship floating through his head. Thinking hard is too difficult when his mind is so fuzzy, so he doesn’t work himself up over it, but it does make him really curious and slightly nauseous and maybe a little bit scared, because he just wants Blaine to be his boyfriend goddamnit, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Blaine doesn’t want the same thing.

“Are we boyfriends?” he asks, before he really makes the conscious decision to do so, and he wants to punch himself in the mouth as soon as he says it because that’s just really fucking dumb. 

Apparently, tonight is a night of facing the things they’ve been avoiding.

Blaine’s body stills against Sam’s and he stays silent for a moment, a moment that seems to last forever, and Sam can feel himself starting to panic when Blaine doesn’t respond.

He’s mere seconds away from apologising and running out of the room when Blaine finally speaks.

“Do you want us to be?” he asks quietly, almost shyly, as he pulls back just enough to glance at Sam.

“Kinda, yeah,” Sam replies, his nerves twisting his stomach into knots and the fuzziness in his brain giving him a headache. “I mean, like, if you don’t- if you don’t want to or whatever, that’s like, that’s cool and stuff, but I mean, I really like you, like a lot, and we’ve been kinda together for a while but not- not really  _together_ , you know? And I guess I was just wondering, if, you know, maybe you, well, I mean maybe-“

Sam’s drunken, anxious rambling is cut off when Blaine covers his mouth with his fingers, giggling against his shoulder like a child. He falls silent for a moment, but Sam can feel him smiling against the crook of his neck, and he has to admit, that smile does help ease his nerves a little bit.

But only a little bit, because Blaine still hasn’t given him an answer, and there’s another long silence that Sam doesn’t dare to break. And he couldn’t, even if he wanted to, because Blaine’s hand is still on his mouth and it doesn’t look like he plans on moving it any time soon.

“… Blaine?” he asks eventually, his voice inevitably muffled by Blaine’s hand. He waits, but Blaine doesn’t respond, and that’s when he notices the heavy, even breathing hitting his shoulder, and the way Blaine’s body is limp against his.

He’s asleep.

He fell asleep without giving Sam an answer.

Sam feels like he could cry from frustration and part of him just really wants to go home, but he’s kind of stuck beneath Blaine now and he knows there’s no way he can move without disturbing Blaine. Plus, he really doesn’t want to explain why he’s running away in the middle of the night when he’s definitely too drunk to be driving.

So now he’s stuck under a half-naked Blaine Anderson with his question still ringing in his ears, and right now, he wishes the mattress would open up and swallow him whole, because he’s embarrassed and uncomfortable and still nervous as fuck.

In spite of his emotional state, though, he decides before he falls asleep that he’ll bring it up tomorrow morning. It could be one of the biggest mistakes of his life, but he feels like he _needs_  to know what he and Blaine are, especially now that he’s already gone and asked him.

Sighing, Sam stares up at the ceiling, trying his hardest not to focus on the way his not-boyfriend is curled up against him, and praying for sleep to come.

—

When Sam asks Blaine the next morning, just like he promised himself he would, Blaine laughs and says, “Of course we’re boyfriends, you dork,” before tilting his head up to kiss him soundly, and Sam can’t remember why he was so nervous in the first place.


End file.
